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A BRIDGE MORE FAIR

Such elegance over a muddy creek,                  A Raleigh cloak for common royality,                A bridge as sweetly curved as any woman's brow, Designed, you think,for a lover's meet.            There has not been a utility more fair               To walk from north to south in Gosport town,       And view our harbour of great renoun.

JUST ANOTHER SEA SONG

Pipe al hands, my bosun,                       Get the sleeping watch topside                There's a blow coming down from Iceland        Angrier than a jilted bride.

The white caps start their grinning,                The sky's as weird as sin.                     Batten down the hatches                      There's a north easter rushing in.

The spray's as sharp as whipping                 The skin from off your back,                     The bowsprit starts a dipping                     As we draw on the starboard tack.

Sailor reef the mainsail,                       Keep the head just off the wind,                 Then we'll jibe and run before it                  And pray the devil's not behind.

It's been like this since Jonah                     Got swallowed by the whale                    And so it will be always                          If you're caught out in a gale.

Entry in a late summer diary.

The warm dry weather persists,                   The trees look languid with too much summer love    And the streams stroll slowly                  Singing their troubadour sad songs.               Here and there a few leaves fall,               Omens of the dying that's to come.            Escapist birds prepare for ritual journeyings           And anxious realists sniff prematurely the Winter's spoor. Today, tomorrow, perhaps another month          This summer will hold its heaven high.                I neither prepare nor sniff its ending near;        Perhaps afraid, but who cares what you say.           I now know how the seasons run,               Have caught on to the simple two and two           Of living where night must follow day              And would be less human if I weren't afraid.         But today the sky's unclouded and the last hay       As sweet to lie in as anything in May.

Harry Haines

For more of Harry Haines Poems

-WAITING TO DESCEND Collected poems Harry Haines 1953-06 £11 - Obtainable by phone 023 92 583608 E-Mail h.haines1@ntlworld.com or from Lee- on -Solent Bookshop/ Waterstones bookshop Fareham Precinct

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